False Sense of Security
by MagicaeArtiumLaudator
Summary: Gill and the team celebrate a successful conviction before they know the full extent of things, and Gill is abducted from her own driveway. Can Rachel, Janet and her neighbour, Matthew, get to her in time? Gill-in-danger fic challenge. One-shot. Rated T for language and general unpleasantness. Please R&R!


**A/N: This is ridiculously long for a one-shot but I hope it's not boring! My contribution to the Gill's-life-being-in-danger-then-she-gets-rescued fic challenge. I'll love you forever if you review! Enjoy :) L ****x**

- **Rachel** -

"Cheers!"

Syndicate 9 raised their glasses as one and clinked them together over their table in The Grapes. They were celebrating the life imprisonment of a murderer who had been particularly difficult for them to catch – or rather, the evidence had been particularly difficult to find, because the crime had been executed with such precision. The woman was sick, they had all agreed – cold-blooded, cold-hearted and all the rest of it. She'd killed three random people separately, all of them, apparently, just for the thrill of the whole process – from the planning, to the murder itself, to the clean-up afterwards. Her appearance was completely deceptive: tall, slim and blonde, an ex-model and yummy mummy, she had a family – two children, for whom she employed a nanny, and a husband who was enthralled by her. She was an obvious control freak. It had been a bizarre case and the day they'd finally managed to get a shred of evidence to convict her had been a relief to them all, but no one on the team had breathed easy until that afternoon, when the judge had sentenced her.

"To a job well done," Gill remarked, raising her glass again and winking at Rachel, who was mostly responsible for the conviction. She flushed with pride, and took a gulp of her own wine, slightly embarrassed.

The celebrations carried on until after midnight, despite the fact they were working the next day, and it was very unsteadily that Rachel swayed outside with the rest to look for a cab. There was one outside the pub and Kevin opened one of the back doors, bowing.

"Ladies first," he slurred, with a cheeky grin.

"Rightly so," Gill crowed, immediately flinging herself into the taxi. Rachel snorted and concentrated hard on not falling over as she followed Gill into the back. She could hear Janet muttering something about drunkards as she got in the front, although tonight she was hardly one to talk – her coat was done up on all the wrong buttons. Kevin slammed the door shut and the taxi departed, heading first to Janet's house, which was closest.

By the time they arrived there, Rachel was sagging somewhat in her seat, the alcohol high leaving an unpleasant dizziness in its wake. Gill wasn't doing too well either; she had her forehead pressed against the window and seemed unwilling to move. Janet reached into the back, groping for their hands in some sort of goodbye gesture.

"See y' tomorrow," she mumbled, and Rachel tried to reply, but it came out as more of a grunt. Gill flapped an arm vaguely in Janet's direction.

"Where next?" the driver asked, slightly disapproving.

Gill started and sat up with a look of one trying to pull herself together. She stated her address slowly, brow furrowed slightly with the effort of remembering it.

When the taxi moved off again, Rachel realised that she wasn't 100% sure where she lived either. The recent move to and from Nick's flat and Janet's house had confused her.

Trying not to cause a disturbance so the driver didn't kick her out for being too drunk, she prodded Gill's leg to get her attention. Gill blinked at her, obviously struggling to focus. Rachel leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially "where do I live?"

Gill spluttered slightly and creased forward, beginning to laugh.

"No," Rachel said seriously, "I really..."

But Gill was still laughing and Rachel found herself joining in, although she didn't know why.

The taxi driver tutted, glaring at them in his rear view mirror. It made the whole situation even funnier. Rachel leaned forward as well, hands over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter. Next to her, Gill was practically crying.

"Ahem," the taxi driver coughed. He'd stopped the car; they'd arrived at Gill's.

"Oops!" she bolted upright, trying to keep a straight face. "Here you go kid," she said, and chucked a fiver towards the fare at Rachel, which she promptly dropped. Sniggering again, she fumbled around for it, almost ripping it as she retrieved it from under the passenger seat.

"Cheerio," Gill said, stumbling as she got out of the taxi.

"Bye!" Rachel called, the blast of cold air from the open car door sobering her up a bit.

"Next?" the driver asked, glancing around at her.

Fortunately, Rachel had remembered her address. Having reeled it off, she settled down for the last few minutes home, longing for the comfort of her bed and a big glass of water. She rested her head against the window, watching the fields surrounding Gill's house flash past, enjoying the peacefulness of the area before she was back in Chadderton, still buzzing from the team's success. Rachel realised that she actually felt happy.

- **Gill** -

Gill stood in her drive, hunting for keys in her handbag. Behind her, the taxi had already sped off, the driver clearly keen to get Rachel home and find some easier customers.

"Bugger" she swore as her handbag slipped and her phone clattered to the ground, her hands shaking from a combination of too much alcohol and not enough layers in the cold.

About to go and pick it up, Gill's ears pricked up – she'd heard a noise. She turned round, uneasy, but didn't see anyone. Accusing herself of being jumpy, but keen to get her phone and get inside all the same, she went to make a grab for it – but she was too late. Suddenly, she felt an arm wrap round her torso and she screamed, trying to twist herself free. Then she felt something much more ominous. A cold, sharp object pressing against her neck. Heard a man's breathing in her ear.

"Another sound and I'll slit your throat."

Terrified, her own breaths coming short and sharp, Gill stayed completely still, waiting to see what he wanted from her. He wasn't going to kill her here, she knew that much. If he'd wanted to kill her in her drive he'd have done it already.

"This way," he said, his voice rough, exhilarated. Psychotic. Still keeping the knife close to her throat, he half-pushed, half-dragged her to the end of her drive, where a car with mud over the number plates sat waiting. She hadn't noticed it in her inebriated state. _Stupid, stupid mistake_, she cursed herself. As he pulled her down the curb, she felt the knife scratch at her neck – not hard enough to cause a dangerous wound, but enough for her to feel a warm wetness replacing the coolness of the blade. Tears pricked at her eyes.

He pushed her against the car and pressed the knife harder against her again.

"Hands behind your back" he growled. She obeyed. She had no chance of fighting him off, not with a knife against her windpipe. She felt him wrap rope around her wrists, tied so tightly it bound her as well, if not better, than the strongest handcuffs. She remembered the feeling of pulling someone's hands behind their backs and cuffing them. Wished she was the one doing the restraining now.

He pushed her into the car and she landed across the back seat, her feet sticking out the door. She felt him tie her ankles up as well, then he roughly grabbed hold of her legs, bending her knees to make her fit in the car, and slammed the door shut.

- **Matthew** -

Matthew was tired. He'd had a long day at work – elderly, deaf, patients, hypochondriacs, misbehaving children, patients who thought they knew better than he did – he'd seen them all today. He sighed, taking a welcome sip of his wine. It was nice to be in his armchair in front of the fire, with a good wine and an even better book. His border collie, Lucy, lay snoozing at his feet. He reached down and ruffled her ears affectionately. She was a good dog. Mostly, she came into work with him and stayed in a little enclosure outside his practice. His patients loved her, and she loved the attention they gave her as they came and went.

The barn conversion was his dream home. It had been his project, a way to distract himself from his divorce, a place that was easy to feel at home in for when his children visited. The fire, the armchair, the little room upstairs that he'd lined with bookshelves and fondly referred to as his library – it was all just as he'd imagined. But it was lonely, even with Lucy. He glanced lovingly towards the mantelpiece, the photographs of his two daughters. One of them was at university, studying maths. She was scientifically-minded, like him. The other was still at school, doing her GCSE's. She was more creative, good at art and writing and music. Like her mother. Matthew was very proud of his daughters. He loved nothing more than to be visited by them.

He sighed again. He couldn't concentrate on his book, knew he was moping. He stood up, deciding to get an early night. Went to double lock the back door. He was hanging the key up when he heard the scream, faint, either loud and coming from far away or quiet and coming from nearby, or somewhere in between. He moved sharply to the window, peering out into the darkness. Couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Still uneasy, he decided to walk up the road and check. He would take the dog. She was always glad of a walk.

"Lucy," he called softly, retrieving her lead and his coat from a peg by the door. She padded out of the living room, wagging her tail as soon as she saw the lead.

"Good girl," he said, clipping it onto her collar. "Come on."

As they walked up the road, Matthew glanced at each of his neighbour's houses. Most of their lights were off; it was late. He could see a television flickering inside one house. Had whoever was in there heard the scream too? As he approached what he knew to be Gill Murray's house, he shook his head, remembering how they'd met. He thought Gill and her son were very amicable, despite getting off to a rocky start when Sammy and his skateboard had had an altercation with Matthew and his BMW.

They were passing the drive when Lucy stopped dead.

"Lucy? What is it, girl?"

She pulled him forward, onto the drive.

"Lucy, this is someone's drive," he hissed at his dog, trying to pull her back, mortified at the idea of being caught snooping. It occurred to him that Gill was a police officer. If there had been a scream, surely she would have heard it?

"Come on, you daft dog," he whispered, "let's go home."

She whined insistently, and he gave in, thinking it might be easier to resume his pulling efforts when she was off her guard. He was immediately dragged halfway up the drive, and then he saw what it was Lucy had been trying to show him. He crouched down, puzzled. Why was there a mobile phone, a blackberry, lying in the drive? Was it Gill's?

Suspicious now, he picked it up, looking around. He inched cautiously up to the house, Lucy prancing around him. Were Gill or Sammy in? The lights were all off, but then it was one o'clock in the morning. He peered through the nearest window, checking for any signs of trouble. A note lay on a nearby table and he squinted, trying to see what it said.

"Sammy – going out for a few drinks with work. Might be back late, don't wait up. Mum x"

Matthew let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. So she was out, Sammy was probably out. Maybe she'd dropped her phone while she was leaving. There was nothing to indicate anything suspicious.

He bent down and patted Lucy's head.

"Come on girl. Bedtime."

- **Gill** -

Gill couldn't see out the windows, but she could tell by the sounds of the car and the jolting about that he was driving like a maniac. She prayed that Sammy had been in and heard her scream. She knew he was probably at Orla's, but she prayed all the same. She prayed that the police would stop the car for speeding or the muddy number plate. Prayed that someone would see her through the window and raise the alarm.

Her prayers amounted to nothing. For a quarter of an hour or so he sped onwards, and she had no idea where she was going, but she suspected into the countryside around where she lived – the bends and bumps felt like country roads. Finally, the road grew so bumpy she was sure it was a farm track, and shortly afterwards the surface he was driving on became even worse, before he finally stopped. Gill lay there, breathing in the smell of the car seat, the smell of his excitement, the smell of her own fear. He got out, opened her door. She tensed, her eyes closed, thinking about Sammy and Julie and Rachel and Janet. Trying to stay calm. Panicking wouldn't help her now.

She felt his hands at her ankles, hasty, rushed. He was getting carried away. After a bit of fumbling, she the ropes fell away from her ankles and she was dizzy for a moment at the warm rush of blood into her feet. She flexed her toes inside her shoes.

He was pulling at her now, dragging her out of the car. Gill stood upright, trying not to overbalance with her hands tied. She took a deep breath, blinked, looked around, assessing her position. She was in a forest. Of course. Alone except for him. He'd turned the engine off and she could see the keys sticking out of his trouser pocket. She looked at his face, seeing him properly for the first time, and almost gasped. She knew this man. It was the husband of the woman whose life imprisonment they'd been celebrating what seemed like a lifetime ago. Her heart sank.

"Recognise me?" he jeered.

She ignored the question, stayed calm. _Focus on him, not you. _

"What do you want?" she asked. Her voice was slightly hoarse, the aftermath of the party, but it was steady and calm. She tried to ignore his knife, which was now in one of the big pockets on his coat.

"You took wife away from me," he said, looking her in the eye, advancing on her. She swallowed, tasting acid in her mouth. The look in his eyes was far from reassuring. He stopped barely an inch from her, put his hands on her hips, bent forward so his mouth was next to her ear. He lowered his voice. "Now you can give me something in return."

Leaning back, he smirked down at her, moving one of his hands to the inside of her right thigh, pulling her legs apart. Terror streaked right through her, and suddenly she didn't care about the knife in his pocket. She'd rather die here, now than what he was planning to do to her. Mustering all her strength, she headbutted him, right on the chin, bringing her leg up at the same time to knee him in the groin.

With a gasp, he dropped to the floor, hands cradling his injury. Throwing caution to the winds, she fell to her knees next to him, pulled the knife out of his pocket with both hands and stuck the handle between her knees. Gripping it hard, she brought her hands down, stretching the rope against the knife's blade, and after a couple of seconds of straining, it snapped. The knife scraped a bit of skin off her wrist , but she didn't care – she was free. She scrambled to her feet again, taking the knife with her, and took off in the opposite direction to where the car was facing, hoping it was the direction they'd come from.

She wasn't fast enough. She could hear footsteps behind her; he'd recovered himself. He was a lot taller than her, his legs were longer, and she let out a cry of frustration as he tackled her from behind, bringing her to the ground. There was a sharp pain in her kneecap as it hit a stone and she groaned, feeling momentarily sick with the pain.

"Stupid bitch," he spat, wrestling the knife off her. She swung round and punched him; blood spurted from his nose and she fought the pain in her knee to get up again. He was still on the floor, one hand over his nose, but he lashed out towards her with the knife and she gasped as the blade sank a couple of centimetres into the flesh on her thigh. He pulled it out again, triumphant, but Gill wasn't going to let him catch her. Mastering the pain, ignoring the blood, she kicked out hard, hit his collarbone, didn't even wait to see whether it had worked before she was running. She couldn't hear anything but her pulse in her ears, the wind rushing past her as she sprinted, dodging between trees and over rocks until she reached the edge of the woods. Behind her, she heard an engine revving and knew he was following her down the little track. She dived into a ditch and forced her way through a thin hedge, scurrying along behind it until she got to a thicker part. She crouched down, breathing heavily, her heart in her mouth. Heard the car getting closer. Saw the headlights. Closer... Closer... Past her. He was going. Was he looking for her or doing a runner? She didn't know.

Suddenly, Gill was lightheaded. She could feel the full impact of the struggle now. Looking down, she was horrified to see that her left trouser leg was drenched with blood, and she tore off her jacket and tied it tightly over the stab wound, trying not to panic. She took deep breaths and sat for a few moments, until she felt ready to try and stand again. She struggled upright and limped along, sticking to the hedge but on the field side – she didn't want to put herself in full view on the road in case he came back. After a few painful minutes, she came across a pile of sticks, and selected the longest and sturdiest to prop herself up on. _Keep going, _she told herself. _For Sammy, if nothing else_.

But it was hard. The blood loss was getting to her, and the cold was biting without her jacket. Eventually, she thought she'd better sit down and rest for a moment – her kneecap was throbbing. She nestled herself against a hedge and closed her eyes, waiting to see if the pain would subside.

Gill was so very cold now. She couldn't remember ever being this cold. She was shaking more violently than she would even have thought possible.

_Sammy._

But the idea of having a sleep was so tempting... To escape from the cold and the pain... And perhaps when she opened her eyes it would be daylight and her leg would have stopped bleeding.

_Don't close your eyes. Get home. Rest there._

Surely she had more chance of making it home if she recovered her strength a little?

The cold was numbing, almost a blessing for her injured leg. It was numbing the nagging voice that wouldn't let her rest as well.

Giving in, Gill slumped sideways, unconscious before she hit the ground.

- **Rachel** -

Rachel approached her desk gratefully, her hangover requiring her to sit down. She pulled a bottle of water towards her and downed half of it in one.

"Thirsty?" Janet smirked from her own desk, but she wasn't looking too bright either. The whole team were feeling the effects of last night.

"Just trying to drink more water," she replied in a sing-song voice, mock angelic.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It's really good for you, you know. Cleansing for the system."

"No amount of water could cleanse that thing," Kevin interrupted.

"Sod off," Rachel grumbled as Janet rolled her eyes.

It was then that she noticed that Gill was only noticeable by her absence. She smirked.

"Where's her Maj? Got her head down the royal bog?"

But Janet didn't laugh.

"She's not been in yet actually, I was thinking of ringing her."

"Yeah, go on," Rachel urged, feeling much brighter at the idea of bollocking Gill for missing work because of a hangover.

Janet picked up her phone and dialled. Rachel waited impatiently, trying not to smirk too broadly.

Janet hung up again, brow furrowed.

"She's not answering."

"Which number did you try?"

"Home."

"Well ring her mobile, muppet!"

"Alright Miss Impatient!" Janet said, already dialling the number. Rachel grinned, switching on her computer. She looked up when she heard Janet say hello.

Janet's expression was not what Rachel had been expecting. She looked confused, worried even.

"What?" Rachel mouthed across.

"Sorry, who are you?" Janet listened for a moment. "Dropped it? No, I was there, she had it last night... Hang on a sec. Rach," Janet looked up, "did Gill have her phone with her when she got out the taxi yesterday?"

"Er, yeah, I think so... I'd have found it if she'd left it in the cab. What's going on?"

But Janet had already started speaking again.

"Did you get that? How did you find it anyway?"

Rachel watched tensely. Everyone was listening in now. She suddenly didn't feel as bright as she had a few minutes ago.

"So you heard a scream, went over, found her phone and saw this note and assumed everything was alright?" she paused, "no, I'm not happy about it either. I'll get uniform onto it. Thanks."

She hung up and looked around at the team.

"That was Gill's neighbour. He said he heard a scream in the middle of the night last night, about 1am. Took his dog for a walk, found Gill's phone but saw a note she'd left for Sammy about going out for a drink and being back late, so he assumed she'd dropped it on the way out and wasn't back yet. He took it home to make sure nobody nicked it, but says he left a note on her doorstep telling her where it was."

"1am," Rachel felt as if all the air had just been sucked from the room. "That's right after the taxi dropped her off. Something's happened to her before she got into her house."

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," Janet replied grimly, reaching for her coat. "Someone call uniform and get them onto it, please. Rach, you coming?"

"Yeah," Rachel stood up immediately. "Where are we going?"

"To see this neighbour. And to her house. I've got a spare key; we're gonna start looking."

Rachel nodded, feeling close to tears. She wasn't close to many people, but Gill was one of the few she would class as somebody she both liked and respected. Gill had put her own reputation on the line for Rachel before and Rachel couldn't bear the thought that she might need them now, and they were just sitting around in the office. She grabbed her coat and followed Janet out of the door.

- **Matthew** -

Matthew hung up the phone and immediately dialled the number of his practice. His receptionist answered.

"Jen, I need you to cancel all my appointments for this morning. Tell them something's come up and reschedule ASAP. I'll ring you again in a couple of hours," he gabbled, barely giving the poor girl time to speak before he hung up. Whistling to Lucy, he grabbed Gill's phone and his car keys and was out of the house within a few seconds. He practically ran up the road, Lucy lolloping along beside him, tongue hanging out. They reached Gill's drive. Matthew felt panicky now. No, he and Gill weren't close, they barely knew each other. But she was a nice woman, he respected her, he liked her. He'd asked her on a date when they'd first met but they'd never got round to fixing anything up. How he wished he hadn't let it slide so easily.

When they reached the house, he held the phone out to Lucy to sniff. She wasn't a sniffer dog, but she was clever and loyal and had better instincts than he did. She sniffed it eagerly and ran around in circles on the drive, then onto the road. She stopped by the curb, barking, scratching at something in the gutter with her paw. He crouched down next to her, trying to see what it was, and he was fairly sure his heart skipped a beat.

A tiny, yet unmistakeable, drop of blood.

"Shit," he exclaimed, standing up and looking around wildly, as if hoping help would pop out from behind a bush.

"Shit!" he said again, reaching for Gill's phone. He would ring that colleague of hers back, tell her what he'd found. He was dialling the number when a car came speeding up the road and screeched to a halt next to him. For one wild moment he thought it might be Gill's attacker, but then with a surge of relief he saw two women get out, one of them smiling at him as if she knew him.

"Matthew?" she asked kindly, taking in his startled appearance.

"Yes," he reached out to shake hands.

"DC Janet Scott, this is my colleague DC Rachel Bailey."

The taller woman gave a cursory nod, her eyes on the house behind him.

"Look." He said, unable to get any more words out. He pointed into the gutter. Janet and Rachel squatted down next to it, peering. Rachel saw it first.

"Fuck."

"Right." Janet stood up, producing a radio from under her coat. "DC Scott, we've found blood outside DCI Murray's house, we need forensics here as soon as possible, CCTV, house to house on this road and dogs, please."

There was a muffled response which Janet seemed to hear and she nodded at Matthew.

"What can I do?" he asked, desperate to help.

"We're gonna do house to house, asking people if they saw anything and-"

"I wanna go and look for her" Rachel interrupted. "You can stay here and do a useless house to house if you want but I want to do something, she could be trapped or dying right now and we're farting about talking to neighbours who were most likely asleep!"

Janet stared at Rachel for a moment, then nodded.

"You're right. Let uniform do house to house. Matthew," Janet turned to him, "when you're walking your dog, where do you take her?"

"Er," Matthew was taken aback by the question, "usually up round the fields, she likes to go off the leash and run around. Why?"

"So there are fields nearby?" Janet asked. A look of dawning comprehension appeared on Rachel's face and she interrupted.

"Anywhere really remote?" she asked him, "anywhere you'd go to not be seen or heard?"

"There are probably loads of places," Matthew answered desperately, "but I can take you up to where I walk Lucy if it helps?"

"Well, it's somewhere to start," Janet said. "Should we drive or walk?"

"Drive a bit of the way, walk the rest," Matthew replied. "Do you mind the dog coming in your car?"

"No," Rachel answered, already getting in. Janet and Matthew followed. He directed them out of the residential area and into the countryside, hoping that they were on the right track, praying that her captor hadn't taken her further afield. Soon, they got to the place he usually parked up to take Lucy into the fields – a wide part of the road by the gate into a field. They all piled out of the car, Lucy panting excitedly at the prospect of a run. Matthew unclasped her leash and held the phone out for her to sniff again.

"Shall we split up?" Rachel asked.

"I think we should stay together," Janet replied, "if by some miracle she is here and we do find her, she might not be alone."

Rachel looked around, apparently unimpressed with this response. "Which way first?"

"Why don't we let the dog decide?" Matthew suggested. They looked at him sceptically and he decided to explain. "I've given her the scent and they do say dogs have good instincts... it's worth a try."

Janet nodded. "Better than anything I can come up with."

"Go on, Lucy," Matthew urged. She immediately wriggled under the gate they'd parked next to and shot off across the field. Matthew, Janet and Rachel climbed over the gate and set off walking, all of them lost in their own thoughts, full of anticipation at what they might find – if anything.

- **Rachel** -

Matthew seemed perfectly nice, Rachel thought, but for a man who claimed to be a doctor he put a bit too much faith in his dog and not enough in their brains for her liking. Still, they were doing something, and that was all she wanted at the moment. She listened to Janet and Matthew making tense small-talk, not bothering to join in, looking around. The dog had gone running off as soon as they entered the field but now she made her way back to them, practically bouncing with excitement.

Dogs. Rachel was not an animal person, in the same way she wasn't a children person. She could see that they were cute and she could see why they appealed to some people, but to her they were just an extra responsibility. Unnecessary unless they were specially trained for something or other.

Rachel raised her face to the sky, seeing grey clouds and not much else. It was cold and windy, and looked like it might be rainy soon too. She checked her phone, wishing for news. Wishing they would find something.

A gust of wind blew her hair back from her face and she drew her coat more tightly around her, annoyed that her eyes were watering in the wind, wanting to be able to scour the field for clues. The dog had stopped in the wind, raised her nose to it, her ears flapping back. Ridiculous animal, Rachel thought.

Or maybe not.

Suddenly, she barked, looking wildly round at Matthew. He started, looking down at her.

"What is it, girl?" he asked the dog softly. She barked again and started running, looking back at him. He began to jog behind her.

Rachel and Janet looked at each other, uneasy. Had she smelt something? Despite her reservations, Rachel found herself unable to resist breaking into a run as well. Before long, all three of them (four if you counted the dog) were practically sprinting across the field, and if she hadn't been so worried about Gill and so desperate for a lead, Rachel would have thought they all looked like idiots.

They followed Lucy towards a hedgerow at the back of the field and she began sniffing eagerly at the base of the hedge, following it along, Matthew right behind her, watching her every move. Rachel screwed up her eyes and peered in the direction the dog was going. Then, with a lurch, she saw it. A figure, unmoving, at the base of the hedge.

Rachel broke into a run, barely aware of Janet and Matthew's shouts beside her. She ran as if she were chasing someone, and only the dog could keep up with her; Matthew and Janet, although fast, had nothing on Rachel when she was focused on something.

She skidded to a halt next to the figure and dropped to her knees, reaching out towards the shoulders and grabbing them, perhaps more roughly than intended in her urgency, turning the woman over to check.

It was Gill. A lump immediately rose in Rachel's throat. Every bit of skin visible was covered in scratches. She'd a cut on her neck and her jacket was tied ominously around her thigh. Her lips were blue, her trousers tight across one knee, as if it were swollen. Rachel reached out, ripping her glove off, and gently moved Gill's head back and to the side, exposing her neck. Nervously, Rachel pressed her fingers to the Gill's throat, feeling desperately for a pulse.

"Let me," Matthew had arrived and knelt down next to her, and she removed her hand, terrified because she hadn't felt anything. Matthew resumed the investigation, and felt for Gill's wrist as well. He looked serious. Rachel watched him, and just as Janet arrived, panting, clutching at her side, Matthew looked up at them and they couldn't mistake the look of relief on his face.

"Thank God," Janet whispered.

Rachel just nodded, watching Matthew examine Gill, muttering as he went. He looked round at them.

"Hypothermia. She looks like she's been here for hours. We need to get her warm."

All three of them took off their coats and covered Gill with them. Rachel moved round to her other side and took hold of her hand under the coats. It was freezing.

"Gill,"she said, again and again. "Gill, can you hear me?"

Janet was on her radio.

"I need an ambulance to... Matthew, where are we?" he told her and she recited it down the phone. "It's for DCI Murray. She's alive but in a bad way."

Rachel lost concentration as Janet barked orders into the radio. Gill had yet to move a muscle. There might be a pulse, but she wouldn't be breathing any sighs of relief until there was a more convincing sign of life.

"Gill..." she said again, through tears she couldn't prevent, "please..."

- **Gill** -

"Please..."

Gill could hear voices, pleading, in the distance. They sounded so worried. She wanted to help. She tried to look around to see where they were, but her head felt so heavy.

"What is it?" she tried to ask, but her mouth wouldn't move.

"Gill?"

A male voice now. She recognised it vaguely. Who was it?

Someone was squeezing her hand so hard it hurt. She twitched her fingers, trying to make them stop. Suddenly there was a lot of noise.

"She moved! Her fingers just moved!"

"What?" the male voice again, urgent.

"Rachel, are you sure?"

_Rachel. _She recognised that name. And then everything clicked into place. Rachel. The taxi. Last night.

She opened her eyes and squinted. Wide, moist, brown eyes were staring back at her.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Boss!" Rachel lifted her head up, looking to her left. "Janet, she's awake!"

"Where is he?" Gill asked again, moving her head left and right, trying to look around.

"Shh. Don't move. There's an ambulance on its way." The male voice again.

"Ambulance? Why?"

"You've been here quite a while. You need to go to hospital to get warmed up properly and get... Get patched up." He explained gently. Gill looked up at the man, getting his face into focus. Then she recognised him.

"Matthew?" she half-whispered, confused and surprised.

He nodded. "Do you remember what happened?"

Gill blanched. She didn't really want to think about it. But – "yes."

"I found your phone," he explained. "Janet rang it, and then we came out here to look for you. And we found you. You're going to be alright."

"Have you got him?" Gill faced Rachel again. She shook her head.

"Do you know who he was?" Rachel asked her gently, leaning towards her.

"That mad bitch who just got life. Her husband." Rachel gasped. "I know. Karma, isn't it? We were celebrating, he had other ideas."

"Did.. What..." but Rachel was cut off at that point by sirens. An ambulance had worked its way across the field and pulled up near their little group.

"Gill." Janet was in her line of vision now, and Gill couldn't help but smile at the sight of her old friend. "We'll meet you at the hospital. We want to make sure uniform and forensics do everything they're supposed to do."

Gill let out a dry laugh at that.

"I'll come with you in the ambulance," Matthew said softly, "I've examined you so I can save the paramedics some time."

"Mhm," was all Gill could manage this time, too exhausted to say any more now she'd established where she was and who she was with.

"You can leave the dog with us," Rachel said, apparently with some effort. "We'll look after her until you can pick her up."

Gill didn't know what dog they were referring to, but as the paramedics helped her onto a stretcher and wrapped her in foil, she couldn't help but smile with relief. To her surprise and displeasure, there were tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as they carried her into the ambulance.

Matthew sat on a seat next to her and she looked at him.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely, trying to tell him how much it meant to her that he'd come out looking for her. "You might have just saved my life there," she admitted.

Matthew grinned.

"A small token of apology for knocking your son off his skateboard."

Gill closed her eyes. "That was his fault."

"Whoever's fault it was, is it wrong that – given that he wasn't injured too badly – I'm actually a little bit glad?"

"Why?" she asked, opening her eyes again and frowning.

"because otherwise I wouldn't have met you" he said frankly, his cheeks flushing a little.

Gill was lost for words. She waited. Matthew continued.

"I don't suppose... When you're feeling better... That date?"

Gill looked up at the roof of the ambulance, resisting the urge to cry again. She imagined what it would feel like to get to know Matthew more. How it would feel to go out with a steady, attractive, intelligent, _trustworthy_ man. She thought about how she would never again underestimate the feeling of being safe.

She looked back at him.

"The cafe at the Royal Oldham actually does decent coffee, you know. Seeing as we're going there anyway..."

He laughed.

"It's a date."

Gill nodded, exhaustion washing over her once again. She closed her eyes. Felt Matthew gently push her hair back and kiss her forehead tentatively. She smiled. Just another injury in the line of duty. She'd get over it. And she'd come out not only stronger, and wiser, but with a new man in her life. And, Gill had to admit to herself as she drifted once more into sleep... She'd always fancied medics.

- **End -**


End file.
